Healing the Wounds
by mimbulus-mimbletonia
Summary: During the war, on a lonely Christmas eve, Severus Snape is contentedly sitting in his quarters, until a knock on the door brings a Gryffindor more lost than he has ever been. NonHBP Complaint. Eventual sshg..mabye
1. In my bed Miss Granger

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter Characters, however much I wish

Big thanks to my Beta Kelly, aka: Lupinsstar who along with swearing that's she's going to update her fic's, has helped with this one. MWAH Kel! Merci!

_**Healing the Wounds**_

Severus Snape sat in his quarters on a lonely Christmas Eve. He sat in a dark burgundy chair beside a roaring fire, and had taken to swirling a glass vintage red wine around in its glass, resisting the urge to finish the glass and the bottle as promptly as possible. Contraire to popular opinion, Severus Snape was an agreeable man who was contented easily; and while he sat in thought, deep in the dungeons of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry his mind pondered the activities his students would no doubly be participating in.

The Slytherin's he decided; would have sat around the large fire in their common room with a bottle of Odgens Firewhiskey while discussing their plans for the New Year. In a civilised manner, the Slytherin's would all tell of their woes and fears regarding the current political climate and express their feelings on the matter.

The Hufflepuff's, in his opinion; would either be sharing a quiet convosation with friends, or be tucked away in bed, waiting for the presents which wouldn't come.

The Ravenclaws would no doubly be having a debate of some sorts, or a study group, or planning their futures and parts in the war. Under no illusions were the Ravenclaws and they kept apart from the school, their ambition clouding their judgement till then.

The Gryffindor's, Snape concluded; would be having a great party with alcohol and practical jokes and merriment. The least subdued house, they would be rampaging around the school like a herd of hippogriffs in good spirits and merriments. And it sickened him.

As his glass swirled for what must have been the hundredth time, a small knock on the door of his chambers was heard. He turned his head slowly and grunted; 'Go away,' for he felt opposed towards any type of company or disruption. A small voice followed another, more persistent knock, 'Professor Snape?'

Standing at once, indignant that this miscreant could ruin his evening he stalked to the door and opened it roughly, only to be hit in the face by what would have been a third knock to the door.

'Oh, Professor Snape!' came the high pitched voice again, 'I'm dreadfully sorry Professor, I was only going to knock again, I hadn't realised that you were going to answer the door…' She trailed off, smiling impishly and biting her lip in apology.

'Miss Granger, only you would disturb a Professor on Christmas Eve at this hour and then proceed to attack the said professor with your relentless knocking on my door,' he said exasperatedly.

'Professor I know it's a bit late but I just found this text in the library and thought it could be of some help to the project you are working on,' she said, her eyes glowing with excitement as she uncovered the battered book from under her thick robes.

'Miss Granger, I am at a loss to how you know about this project and why an earth you were reading a book of this nature on Christmas Eve rather than celebrating the occasion with your schoolfellows.'

Immediately her head dropped, her shoulders sagged and she made to stow the book away while answering, 'Professor Dumbledore informed us of this project sir, I wanted to help and found this book in the Library and Sir, with all due respects; There is nothing to celebrate.'

At this, Severus Snape was rather shocked, this girl was top of their year and head girl to boot, she was the best friend of Harry Potter and they were working tirelessly in the war against Voldemort. 'Nothing at all Miss Granger? There is nothing you can be thankful of this year? Nothing you can celebrate?'

She looked up at him, her eyes no longer glowing, but rimmed with tears and she shook her head. 'Every time I feel happy sir, I feel a pang of guilt. My parents died because of my part in this war and I feel it would do them a dishonour to laugh and be merry while there is so much in this war that needs to be done.'

Bowing his head, the potions master closed his eyes briefly and exhaled. He could identify with his pupil, as it was exactly what he had felt after joining the light side. Looking up he searched her face and bit his lip, 'I see Miss Granger,' he told her quietly, 'and therefore it is out of guilt for your parents deaths that you work so tirelessly and have come to disturb me on Christmas Eve to aid me with my project?'

Eyes brimming with tears that she refused to let fall, she nodded mutely. Taking one look at the forlorn girl grieving on his doorstep, and another at the warm fire in his rooms with two cosy armchairs and a bottle of wine, Severus Snape did the impossible and opened his door to the distraught head girl, inclined his head to the fireplace, 'Miss Granger, please come in.'

She fled from the cold, echoing halls into his rooms and stood beside the fire silently staring at the dancing flames. He noticed she was wrapped in many layers of robes and held herself like he had once done when young. At the time he had just taken the mark and was shut in his bed, with the hangings spelled shut and he had cried. 'Miss Granger, please sit down, is there anything you would like to drink?'

She sniffled and shrugged off the blood red outer robe she wore, to reveal a thinner black robe and sank into the armchair. Looking up at him with hesitance and precaution in her wide, hazel eyes, she replied meekly, 'A cup of Tea couldn't go amiss, sir.'

Instantly, an old fashioned metal kettle appeared and Snape placed it in the fire, he magicked a mug and saucer out of the air and summoned a small bottle of milk. He set upon the task and made the tea in an old muggle fashion; first he transfigured an empty wine bottle into a tea-strainer and watched as he strained the tea into the cup by pouring the boiling water over it. She observed, transfixed, as he carefully added a dash of milk to the mixture and stirred it as he did his potions, while banishing the used equipment. Handing her the cup of tea, she nodded in thanks and asked him why he made the tea like that, and did not simply conjure a cup of tea ready made.

'Magic has its own ways of forming things,' he informed her mildly, 'and sometimes an old Muggle way is incomparably better than the magical solution. Making tea can be calming and soothing, if not for me then for you, as you seem to have cheered since watching me tackle the task of making tea,' he explained, a smile gracing his face.

He poured himself another glass of wine and sat back in his armchair, closing his eyes in a weak attempt to escape his life. His breathing slowed as his eyes flickered open and he observed her nursing her tea. One hand held the handle and the other the brim of the cup and he inquired as to why she held the cup so. 'It's hot,' she explained, 'At home I was always taught…'

He nodded in understanding as she broke off and furiously blinked away the tears that threatened her face. She drank her tea quietly and thought of her housemates as she had left them. Harry had been lying on the rug in the common room, staring at the fire, crying. Ron had sat on an armchair beside him with his eyes closed and in a state of meditation. The younger years had put themselves to bed early and everyone else was sat together in a corner of the common room, away from Harry and Ron. The common room had been silent, the elder students crying and holding each other, the younger hidden from the war they would have to soon face. She, herself had sat beside Ronald with the large book she had brought to Professor Snape. In truth, she had found the book earlier in the week, but hadn't been able to find the right excuse to show her professor. She had sat in the common room with the book her lap, closed and had been leaning against Ron's shoulder. She had hummed softly to herself, an old muggle lullaby and felt uncomfortable breaking the silence. She had run out of the room terrified, for her friends were distraught and she could not help them, and oh how it scared her.

When she had stopped running she had realised that her feet had bought her to the Library. Looking down at the book she clasped in her hands she ran to the dungeons, straight to her professor, her eyes alight in relief. And then he had let her in, invited her into his quarters when she was distressed, and she appreciated it.

Comfortably they sat watching the flames of his fire parade around the fireplace and rise up through the chimney. When she finished the tea she closed her eyes briefly and opened them again to find Professor Snape staring gently at her.

He blinked and shook his head abruptly, speaking quietly 'Now, Miss Granger, I believe you had found something in that's book of your which might help me?'

Her eyes opened and she could have smacked her head, 'Of course Professor see I found this charm which is used to help keep the heat on potions in proportion with the ingredients. It would help with the potion you are creating because I know the base of the potion needs to be kept at the same temperature until adding the moonflower and then the heat would need to rise dramatically. This would raise the heat without you having to adjust the heat manually and therefore leave you free to stir in the moonflower to the point that it no longer acts as a catalyst and then with the powdered Bicorns Horn it would create the potion perfectly.'

She stopped speaking and bit her lip, the Professors head was bowed and he had not reacted to her findings at all. She turned to the correct page in the text she had found and began to read aloud, '_The Tempus Keep Charm was created by Professor Emmet Brown, a renowned researcher into the effects of time-travel and how time can be manipulated for other uses. The charm acts as an anti-catalyst for the base of the potion. It keeps the potion at a steady state while adjusting to each ingredient input into a potion. The phrase 'Tempus Status' needs to be cast on the base of a potion; before brewing continues.'_

Looking up at her Professor, whose eyes were bulging wide in shock. He smiled and shook his head in satisfaction, '100 points to Gryffindor, Miss Granger. You are by far the most competent potions student I have had in years, and right now I could hug you.'

Hermione smiled sheepishly, 'I thought it might help…'

She grinned and asked him about his method on the base, and he was off. They chatted amiably and enthusiastically for a while, she challenged him on points he made and wouldn't accept defeat until he explained them properly to which she just nodded and noted down on some conjured parchment.

She was absently curling her hair in her fingers and biting the end of her quill while he finished explaining the finer points of the properties of the base when suddenly a clock chimed once, and loudly. 'My goodness,' she exclaimed, 'it's so late, or early! I best get back.'

He studied her tightly for a second and nodded sharply but frowned and then shook his head. 'Miss Granger there is a war in motion and you are in Slytherin territory, I will not deny that some of my students are no doubtly marked by their parents beliefs and, while it may be improper I must insist you do not stray into the halls and,' he paused in decision, 'stay here.'

'What? Oh Professor I couldn't possibly…'

He gave her a look which was half a smirk and chided her, 'Scared of what your friends will say?'

Looking at him, calculating the pros and con's she grinned back and apologised. 'I guess you are right Professor, I wouldn't want to miss the casting of the charm on the base.'

He looked at her sternly and said flatly, 'Miss Granger even if you were to die I am positive you would remain as a ghost purely in intent of watching over this potion, I have no objections with you assisting me with this at all, for you have just provided a vital answer.

She giggled at this; she wouldn't want to miss it for sure. She began to pull her robe back over her to settle down Snape stood up hurriedly and summoned her book and robe. He looked at the armchair and said repulsed, 'Miss Granger you cannot sleep there.'

'But then where am I to sleep?'

Exasperated,he told her bluntly, 'In my bed Miss Granger.'

Her face was aghast, surely he didn't mean? But what if he did? What would she do?

Rolling his eyes at her apparent thoughts he chuckled, 'Miss Granger I assure you I will not be in the room at the same time.'

Amused at the relief evident on her face he led her into his bedroom and conjured some pyjamas, which lay folded on the bed. 'If you need me, I shall be on the couch.' Nodding curtly he left her to change and he retired to his living room. The embers had died in the fire and the wine bottle was lying empty on the side table.

Hermione changed into the pale pink pyjamas Snape had conjured for her and snug herself into the white cotton sheets. His room was not green as thought, but a dark blue, and his covers were navy with silver embroidery woven into the stitches. She lay her head back on the pillow and breathed in the scent of her Professor. He smelt of spice, ginger and lemon. It was refreshingly soothing and within minutes she was asleep. Her thoughts were not of Christmas, for she had completely forgotten the holiday while in her professors company, but of potions, charms, and a dark, cloaked man with understanding. She slept innocently with her long tangled hair strewn across her face and arm sprawled across the bed, and that was exactly how he had found her in the morning.

**A/N: Did anyone get my Professor Emmet Brown, big time-traveller research bit? Cookies for those who understand my jaunt into the world of another film…hehehe**


	2. Christmas Day

**Authors Note: Thanks for all the reviews everybody! Yep that's right, quite a few of you got the Professor Emmet Brown reference. Cookies for everyone! Emmet Brown the time travelling Professor :D Back to the future films, 33 Marty McFly!**

**Okay so needless to say I am not JK and I do not own any characters…yet :P Enjoy chapter 2!!**

Severus Snape tentatively peered through the door to his bedroom. It was Christmas morning and apart from wanting to change his clothes, he was compelled to check on the sleeping girl who lay in his bedchambers. He almost snorted at the thought, the supposed evil git of Hogwarts had a girl lying in his bed, however platonic and out of context the thought was. He thought back to the previous night, the girl had seemed so distraught, and he understood how she felt. She felt exactly what he had after he had joined the light side and his mother had died; survivor's guilt.

Light streaked through the hangings on his bed and he could see Hermione tangled up in his bedcovers. Her hair was strewn around her like an angel and the quilt had been pushed down to her waist. Her arm was flopped loosely over the crisp, white sheet which she lay underneath. Her robes were folded neatly and lay on the end of the bed, untouched by any movement during the night, and her shoes looked out of place next to his larger ones by the window. A warm glow engulfed the room when with a flick of his wand; Snape lit the fireplace beside his bed.

Stepping into the room, he summoned a change of clothes and pulled away the curtains from his bed. Setting down a cup of freshly made tea on the old beside table, he returned into the living area and proceeded to the bathroom.

Hermione awoke gently to the warm sun beating down upon her skin. She sat up in the strange bed and rubbed her eyes grateful for the sleep. And then it hit her. She was not in her own bed. Looking around frantically, she searched her brain for the memories of the previous night and as she caught sight of the bookshelves crammed with Potions journals and the kicked off midnight blue covers, she remembered.

She lay back against a propped up pillow and drank the steaming hot tea which had been left for her and after feeling pleasant warmth in her belly which told her it agreed with the tea; she stepped out of bed onto the cold floor. Her toes flinched and as she moved towards the fire, she poked her head around the creaky wooden door and called out, 'Professor?'

'The bathroom is the door on the left, I've left everything out for you,' called Professor Snape from somewhere in his quarters. Padding sleepily along to the bathroom, she washed quickly and humming happily, transfigured the pyjamas into some plain maroon robes and tried to tame her hair. Still barefoot, she went back into her professor's bedroom and made the bed before, armed with a small bundle of clothes, she walked back into the lounge.

The sight that greeted her was one which she would not easily forget. Professor Snape was curled up with a book on the burgundy armchair he had been in the previous night. He was wearing robes of bottle green with red and gold embroidered into the edges. The snake on the crest of his robe had a red woolly scarf around it and to top it off, he wore red slippers. Looking up from his book and glancing at his pupil he smiled, 'Oh you're up then? Help yourself to some toast; I don't doubt Albus will be along soon.' He took a bite of toast from a large pile and crunched cheerfully.

Setting her belongings down on the rug beside 'her' armchair, Hermione sat down and took some of the toast. She sat in contented silence for a few minutes before Snape closed his book and banished her belongings to her rooms. She gave him a calculated glare of disapproval of his attire and shook her head in mock condemnation.  
'Why, Professor Snape, sir. I didn't know you were so…festive?'

'Dumbledore insisted,' he growled. A knock could be heard from the door and he stood up. 'Speak of the devil.' He strode swiftly over to the door and stiffly greeted Dumbledore, who cheerfully insisted he came in. Needless to say he was rather shocked to see the head-girl sitting merrily on his Potions Masters' armchair eating breakfast.

'Good Morning Professor, Merry Christmas!' she exclaimed to a speechless Dumbledore. Dumbledore turned to Snape in question and Snape answered him with a sarcastic edge to his voice, 'Miss Granger spent the night here Albus.'

If he had been eating, Hermione would have placed money on Dumbledore choking, instead he replied quizzically, 'in…in your chambers Severus?'

'Yes Albus,' he goaded, not quite knowing why he was insinuating such things, 'more specifically, in my bed.'

Hermione watched as her potions professor taunted her headmaster as if it were a comic act. She watched Dumbledore's face turn from white, to pink, to red, to a purple colour rarely seen on anything but ogres and just as began his rant, 'Now see here Severus…' she broke out laughing and Professor Snape sniggered.

Professor Dumbledore's face grew incredulous and he looked at both his student and head of house, 'I fail to see the joke,' he said. This induced yet more giggling verging on Hysterics from Hermione and a jagged smile from Professor Snape. Finally they let Dumbledore in on the joke and though not amused, he was no longer concerned for the relationship he had originally thought had existed.

Severus and Hermione accompanied Professor Dumbledore to breakfast where they split and Hermione left the elder two and dutifully sat with Ron and Harry. Ron was wearing an old maroon jumper sent a few Christmases before and sat merrily chirping away to Harry, unaware that Harry was not paying attention. Judging from the bags under his eyes and his lack of proper attire, Harry had not slept properly and was not in the mindset to talk. 'Ronald,' she scolded gently, 'Let Harry sleep.'

Ron looked at her strangely and grumbled, turning back to his food, 'When did you get here?' She flushed and smiled, 'just now, but Harry doesn't seem to be with us yet.'

Ron frowned and with a piece of egg dangling from his chin he gestured to where Harry sat and said, 'What do you mean Hermione, Harry's here.'

'Harry is asleep Ronald, his elbow is in his plate of toast and he is barely dressed.' Ron looked at Harry and saw that in his hype he had failed to notice Harry was only wearing a pair of pyjama bottoms and a dressing gown.

Ron would have snorted if he hadn't been so loyal to Harry. He just nodded and shook Harry awake quietly, and together the three of them left the hall, Hermione and Ron holding up a barely conscious Harry.

At the Staff table the trio were being watched by Professor Snape, who stirred some coffee amusedly and said to the headmaster. 'I don't think Potters quite with it today Albus, he fell asleep in his toast and Granger had to inform Weasley that Potter wasn't awake before that baboon realised he wasn't being listened to.'

Professor Dumbledore removed his glasses and sat them down on the table. He smiled painfully at his Potions master and sighed, 'Harry isn't well Severus.'

Snape spluttering slightly and was shushed by Dumbledore who continued, 'Harry wants to get the war finished, and he wants to keep his friends safe. Harry does not want anybody hurt and he doesn't want to kill anybody, Voldemort included. Harry cannot sleep Severus, for the daily invasions of his mind and everyone is suffering. Tell me what I can do for the boy Severus and I will. I can do nothing for Harry in his plight and I fear that his emotions may overcome him at the wrong time. He is vulnerable Severus, and he is hurting.'

Snape's mind reeled and he said the first thing that came to him, 'The boy doesn't want to kill the Dark Lord?'

Dumbledore's eyes glazed over and he nodded emotionlessly, 'Harry doesn't want to kill, the fact that he has to kill Voldemort is irrelevant. Harry does not want to commit murder, he is repulsed by the thought of blood on his hands, both friend and foe.'

Snape moved his head up and down while contemplating the future. 'I need to teach him Occulmency Albus.'

The reply was instantaneous, 'Absolutely not Severus.'

Groaning he explained his thoughts to the headmaster, 'I need to work with Miss Granger for the project you have given me. With her presence, Potter might feel more relaxed. I could teach her Occulmency and together, she and I could train Potter. Last time was a disaster but less lives will be lost if Potter can keep his mind closed to the Dark Lord.'

Dumbledore bit his lip and nodded slowly, he deliberated and paused in his thinking and said, 'I do understand you Severus.' Dumbledore looked into Snape's' eyes, 'I will discuss this with Harry and I ask you to do the same with Granger. Do you think Mr Weasley should be included within this group?'

Raising an eyebrow and then narrowing his eyes Snape retorted, 'You are pushing it Albus. Miss Granger is enough trouble with her inquisitiveness and aptitude for pointing out the subtleties.' Pausing he looked from Dumbledore to the Gryffindor table and around the hall. Students were crying, the prophet had released an article on the most recent attack and it seemed to be getting too much for the children. They couldn't cope with the fear everyday that their parents could be hurt while they were safe at Hogwarts. He looked back to Dumbledore and sighed, 'Potter I will assist, in the name of the war. Even though to me, his name is despicable, and his parentage I loathe but I will make a sacrifice. But….Really Albus? Weasley? Must we include Weasley?'

Dumbledore smiled humourlessly at his potions masters' feeble pleas.  
'Severus, I will leave it for you to determine the value of Mr Weasleys knowledge of Occulmency, and therefore you may proceed with plans regarding Mr Potter and Miss Granger, if they both consent and then you can make your decision based on the outcome.'

'As you wish Professor, I will…'

'Do nothing Severus,' Dumbledore said gently. 'It is Christmas. The loneliest Christmas we have had in a long time, despite the raised numbers. Let the students be for today, and you can approach Miss Granger another time.'

Biting his lower lip bitterly, Severus Snape left the hall in an almost flee, and flew to his chambers like a craven to his nest. He wrapped himself in his usual black robes and sat at his desk scanning the surface for some spare parchment. Eventually he settled on resizing the enlarged handwriting on some of his third year essays and tore off the excess, now spare, parchment to use for himself.

In his quick, elegant scrawl he inked a note to Hermione and with haste, sent it off with his ebony owl, Orion. _(A/N: Orion is a reference to Orion's belt. If you keep going past Orion then you come to Sirius!)_

By now it was eleven o'clock in the morning and seeing as he only had two presents to open, from Albus and Minerva; Snape decided to unwrap them later. He could tell what they were anyway, Minerva had sent him a book as she had done every year since he had started teaching, and Albus some woolly socks with some Lemon Drops, and how he loathed the sweets. Glaring at the presents and the thought of the vile bonbons, Severus Snape curled up into the corner of his armchair next to the fire, and whilst humming a Christmas carol; he made a pot of tea. He remained sat in his armchair all day, sipping tea and lost in his thoughts.

Teaching Occulmency to Potter would be positively awful, and he would have to try and not be as vindictive as he usually was towards the boy, the spawn of the man he hated so much. Miss Granger would be easier to work with, her presence would hopefully calm the Potter boy and at least she was competent enough to research and understand the concepts of Occulmency before he would try and teach her.

Not that he wanted to teach either of them. No. Of course not. That would be ludicrous, yes, completely unheard of. Miss Granger was merely a tool who had helped him immensely with his project, merely a tool to help him train Potter. And she was merely a tool who had helped him to not feel as lonely as he should have done on Christmas Eve. Wait! No! She didn't help him, he helped her. Did he?

Thinking back to the previous evening Snape ran the events through his head. Granger had no doubly been upset, distraught even; and he had helped her recover her thoughts enough and he had comforted her enough to calm down her mental state. _And she had slept in his bed._ Yes but that had been purely platonic, it would have been dangerous to have let a student, let alone the Gryffindor head girl, walk through the dungeons unaccompanied.

But he had been a lost soul himself, before Miss Granger had arrived. He had been wallowing in his thoughts, in self-pity, trying to analyse everything. From what he had been told about the Gryffindor's by Granger he had been wrong, he could admit that. He was shocked to hear that they were not celebrating, and he realised that he had been so shallow as to judge the house of Chivalry not only out of the context of war, but of that of the stereotypes he had always known.

So in a way, she had helped him too. In her own distress the head girl had helped him understand that he was not the only one suffering. And in his attempt to cheer her up, he himself had been cured of the pain which he had felt every Christmas. The feeling of constant, unimaginable loneliness which he had felt since he was a child had been depleted and died as quickly as Potter losing house points.

Together in their pain, he realised; they had helped each other. And now together they could help Potter, they could win the war. It had taken him a few hours to think through everything, but Severus Snape unknowingly smiled to himself in his dreamlike state, because he knew he wasn't alone, and that he could win.

Hermione Granger had been lying on Harry Potters bed for two hours, her arms wrapped around the now sleeping boy. It had taken Ron and her a while to settle Harry, who seemed to have woken up during the journey from the hall back to the common room and who was apologising to them for his lax attention. "I'm so sorry guys; I probably ignored you yesterday didn't I? I just get so wound up lately and I can't sleep, I just take it out and…"

Ron hadn't let him continue, "Harry, shut up."

Hermione had explained to him gently that he needed to rest, and needed to let his emotions out and not bottle them up, and so when Harry was due to awaken in the evening, they would open their presents together and talk about everything, to clear the thick air that was trying to separate them.

Ron was in the common room with Ginny, trying to cheer her up and was placing Christmas cards around the common room in an attempt to make the room feel more homely. Ginny would charm the cards to hum Christmas Carols together, and Ron would hang them from the walls and around the furniture, levitating them from his place where he sat on the couch, around the room.

The common room, apart from the two Weasleys, was empty. Everyone else was still at breakfast and avoiding the room which reminded them so much of the homes they missed so much. The war had cost everyone, it had cost them freedom, it had cost them innocence and a sense of happiness. The war had destroyed families and ripped apart friendships. Even Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived was suffering through his friendships, and Hermione was determined not to let him suffer like he was.

Alone with him in the dorms, the light stole though holes in the bed hangings and his face was illuminated. Hermione could see the pain Harry suffered and could only whisper things to him, calming thoughts, she could stroke his hair to try and banish the pain but it wasn't enough, and she knew that it was his scar which hurt him the most. And the only was to stop Harry's scar hurting as much though his link to Voldemort would be to shut out the dreams, to banish Voldemort from his head. To do that, Harry would need to learn Occulmency. For that, Hermione would need a favour from Professor Snape.

It was as she reached that thought that a sleek, black owl swept into the room and landed on the bed. It turned its beak towards Harry and stuck it up the air, rejecting the forlorn boy. Hermione took the letter attached to its leg and unscrolled it. One look at the first line told her who it was from, and she was surprised, yet pleased that he had sent her a note. 'Dear Miss Granger,' it read on the first line, in Professor Snape's curled, loopy scrawl, and at that Hermione stole a rare smile, and continued to read.

**_Please R+R!!!  
I know it's a bit of a cliffy but that's how I planned to end this chapter; the rest of the letter will be read in Chapter 3, so no worries!_**


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